Gay Anniversary Blues
by dracoredeemed
Summary: Draco just wants to buy a nice anniversary card for Harry. So, why is he having so much trouble? This is a birthday fic for Aandune, written in collaboration with Laylee. H/D Slash. Rated for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR. We are just taking them out to play for fun, not profit. No copyright infringement intended.**

**A/N: This is a birthday fic for the gorgeous Aandune. There are four chapters in all. Hope you have a lovely birthday on the 22nd! Love and hugs from Laylee and me. xxxx**

**Gay Anniversary Blues**

**By Laylee and Dracoredeemed**

Draco stood on the pavement outside the Muggle department store and shuddered with distaste. It was a nice enough building, with its traditional façade, immaculate stonework and display windows so clean they almost looked like they weren't there. Hermione had told him it was the most upmarket store in London, which was something at least. The big problem was the unwashed masses milling around him, causing him to jump around tetchily to avoid contact. One would think such a salubrious establishment would attract only the upper classes, but it appeared that every man and his shaggy dog were pouring through the elegant front entrance. Draco sighed dramatically and steeled himself. He was waiting for a gap in the crowd so he wouldn't be jostled, but it seemed the Muggles just kept coming and coming! He brushed his sleeve in annoyance when a crusty old woman sneezed on him as she passed, causing his blue velvet jacket to wrinkle slightly as drops of saliva rained down upon it. "Urgh, disgusting," he muttered before quickly casting a wandless _Scourgify_ and winced at the feel of the cleaning spell as it washed over him, leaving his hair slightly on end. Oh, really, this would _never_ do. He raised a pale hand to smooth the white-blond strands, then to adjust his green striped cravat before smoothing down the front of his jacket. Making sure his pockets were aligned correctly, he stepped forward with determination, managing to collide instantly with a small animal of some kind.

"What the fuck?" He looked down to shake off the stupid dog or whatever was attached to him, and was astonished to find a small Muggle child clinging to his trouser leg – his previously immaculate and very, very expensive French tweed trouser leg – with grimy little fingers.

"Mummy, that man swore."

Suddenly a woman was snarling in his face. "Bloody poof! Keep yer 'ands off my kid."

Draco sputtered and backed away as the woman grabbed the child and hurried off down the street. Oh, _now _he had sticky fingerprints on his trousers. Was the world against him? He cast another _Scourgify_, followed by a quick grooming spell to tame his now completely disarrayed hair. Merlin! All he needed was one card. One anniversary card to celebrate his fifth year with Harry, and it had to have a same-sex message on it. How hard could it be? He sighed. Hard enough that he'd had to brave Muggle London to find one. Who would have thought that with all the new legislation allowing same-sex marriage – wizard and Muggle alike – that it would be so hard to find a gay anniversary card? He'd tried Flourish and Blotts, Hogsmeade stores and every wizard shopping catalogue he could lay his hands on, but nowhere could he find a suitable card. Apparently there were plenty of them around the Muggle shops, though, so he'd resignedly agreed to brave it. It was for Harry, after all.

Resolving to make this excursion as fast as possible, he pulled the hem of his jacket down with determination and strode across the pavement into the store. As the doors closed behind him, however, he stopped dead, his jaw dropping before he had a chance to stop it. The place was enormous! He looked around and tried to get his bearings. The store was like a city in itself, stretching far away in every direction, the counters littered with an amazing variety of goods. Draco glanced up at the ceiling and admired the carved cornices and chandeliers decorating it. Well, he supposed _some_ Muggles must have taste, though he would describe it as just a trifle garish if anyone asked. Still, he hadn't known Muggles could be so… well, opulent. It was distracting to say the least.

Looking around further, he realised he had no idea of where he should be going, but was soon forced to move when someone walked into him from behind. He staggered forward with an "oomph", barely managing to remain upright, and turned around to give the offender a piece of his mind.

"Watch where you're going, will you?" a snooty man in slacks and a jumper snapped before elbowing him and sweeping past, disappearing into the crowd and leaving Draco to be jostled as more and more people moved through the sliding doors. Oh, Merlin! There were so many of them! Quickly glancing around, he spotted a quiet corner and made his way towards it, managing to flatten himself against the wall, well out of reach of any passers-by. He decided not to bother with more cleaning spells, since it was well-nigh impossible to avoid touching anyone. He'd just have to bathe and have Kreacher magically disinfect his clothes when he got home.

Carefully, he appraised his surroundings again. Hermione had said to go straight to the moving staircases – apparently Muggles had compensated very well for their lack of magic – which would take him to the floor with the cards and stationery. He should look for a directory, he supposed, to locate which floor that would be. He slid along the wall for several feet before deciding to brave the aisle again, managing to make it across the entire front entrance without running into anyone. He sighed in relief when he finally spotted the moving staircases and quickly made his way over to them. There was a directory at their foot, which was a relief. Within minutes he was transported to the correct floor and was examining the rather impressive display of cards and gifts with some delight.

Really, he was surprised at how inventive Muggles could be, although of course their cute moving picture frames and flashing gizmos were quite inferior to wizard products. But he was here to find a card, and find a card he would, so he moved along the display until he came across the anniversary cards. _For my darling wife_ - Urgh…. _For my dear husband_ - now, there's a possibility. He plucked the card from the shelf and opened it. Oh, _from your devoted wife._ Damn. He may be gay, but he was _not_ the femme in their relationship. _Happy Anniversary, Mum and Da_d…. He rolled his eyes and continued looking. Oh, there was one: _Happy Anniversary, Sexy_. Well, that might do. He plucked it off the shelf and opened it up to read the message. _If you promise not to snicker, I'll let you in my knickers. _Draco snorted, but quickly shut the card in disgust when he noticed the picture of the couple inside was of a man and a woman. Slotting it back onto the shelf, he moved along a bit, but a survey of the remainder of the cards revealed nothing of interest at all. They were either too flowery, or too straight, or just plain stupid. And not one of them had a gay anniversary message or even a picture of two men on it. Draco sighed heavily and wondered if he could transfigure the sexy card to show two men. _This is ridiculous! There should be a gay anniversary card! What is this? The bloody Dark Ages? Merlin!_

Turning to inspect the store around him, he spotted a woman at the counter and walked over to her.

"Excuse me, Madam."

A woman in a black dress and shoes and a very big bottle-blonde hairdo turned to greet him. "It's Miss, actually," she simpered, and batted her eyelashes at him.

Draco choked, but managed to disguise it as a cough as he mentally put two fingers down his throat. Outwardly, he gave her his most charming smile. "Miss, I wonder if you could point me towards the same-sex cards please?"

"Same-sex?" She looked at him with furrowed brows, as if he had just spoken a foreign language.

"Yes, same-sex," he replied patiently. When she still looked confused, he added, "As in gay. Do you have any cards for gay couples?" She was still regarding him rather stupidly, so he continued. "Homosexual. H.O.M.O.S.E.X.U.A.L. Also known as poofs, queers, ponces or fags."

"Oh." Her face instantly fell and she pursed her lips in distaste. "No, of course we don't. This is Harrods, after all." She sniffed and turned away in dismissal.

iOf all the nerve! How dare she treat me so shabbily./i Draco's lips thinned and he started to count backwards from ten. _Nine… eight… seven…. Oh, fuck it._ "How dare you be so rude, you heterosexist Muggle bitch," he called after her, crossing his arms in fury and adopting his most indignant demeanour.

She turned in surprise and stared at him with her mouth open, as if she couldn't quite believe what she had heard.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I expect an apology. Now." Draco gave her his nastiest death glare but she only stared back rudely at him.

"I'll call the department manager if you don't leave me alone. That's harassment, that is." She crossed her own arms and stood her ground.

Draco saw red. Then he turned her into a chicken.

"Stupid Muggles." He smiled to himself in grim satisfaction. The chicken flapped around for a bit and scratched at the floor before settling into a nearby cane basket to lay an egg. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the piece of parchment Hermione had given him with the names and addresses of the Muggle shops, and scanned the list to see where he should try next.

centerb~~~~~H/D~~~~~/b/center

Harry sighed and leaned back in his chair, a small smile forming on his lips. He had the weekend off! The _whole_ weekend, for the first time in the three years he'd been an Auror. Silently running through his plans in his head, he whizzed through the pile of paper work on his desk. Half an hour flew by, and Harry had almost finished his last report when a sound that caused his stomach to sink rang out across the department: the Muggle Abuse alarm. After the end of the war, sensors had been set up in cities to alert the Ministry when offensive magic was being used in places rarely frequented by wizards. And some bastard had just tripped an alarm. Harry saw his anniversary plans flying out of the Charmed windows as he craned his neck over the top of his cubicle to see if there was anyone else in the office to investigate it. The only other fully-qualified Auror he could see was Ron, his partner, and his stomach took up residence with his toes when he realised what that meant.

The tannoy crackled into life before Kingsley's booming voice echoed out across the room. "Aurors Potter and Weasley to my office."

The angry brunet threw his quill down on the desk, literally ten minutes from finishing the report and getting out, and stormed towards Kingsley's office. He entered without knocking and allowed the door to slam behind him before taking a seat facing his boss.

Kingsley quirked an eyebrow at Harry. "Watch yourself, Harry. One Malfoy is more than enough in the Ministry."

Harry answered with a glare. "What's this about?" he asked after a moment's silence.

"Wait until Ron arrives; I don't want to repeat myself." Kingsley looked at Harry over the rim of his recently acquired glasses. "I'm sorry about this, Harry, I know you wanted to get out early today."

Harry was saved from answering when Ron entered the office. "Was that the Muggle Abuse alarm a minute ago? Do you know who it was?" he asked, his face tight. The Ministry's inability to apprehend the Death Eaters who had survived the Battle of Hogwarts was Ron's biggest bug-bear, and he was determined to do everything in his power to catch the last of them.

"I don't know; whoever it was has hidden their signature."

Any hope Harry had of getting out early was completely dashed. "Where did it happen?"

"Knightsbridge in London, a shop called Harrods. We need you out there immediately. You know what to do. I really am sorry, Harry, but you are the only team available."

Harry knew Kingsley was sincere in his apology, but that didn't quell his anger.

"It's fine." Harry walked out of the office and headed for the Apparation room with Ron close behind.

The two Aurors Apparated into an alley near Harrods and scanned the area to make sure they had not been seen. Harry looked at Ron, the acknowledged tactical genius within the department. "How do you want to do this?"

"We stick together. We don't know how many of them are in there, or who they are, and I don't want to take any risks; Malfoy'd kill me if I got you killed the day before your anniversary."

Harry smiled at Ron. His red-haired friend had taken to his being gay much better than he'd anticipated. Ron's relationship with Draco had taken more time, but there was no longer any open hostility between his best-friend and his spouse. "Right, let's do it."

Ron looked up at the building. "I say start at the top and work down. That work for you?"

Harry cast a spell similar to the one used on the World Cup stadium to ensure that no one would want to enter or leave the store after he and Ron has passed over the threshold before slipping his wand into the sleeve of his jacket and nodding. "Lead the way."

The two men entered the building, their eyes alert for anything unusual. As they moved towards the escalator, Ron's face morphed from tense to incredulous. "This place is ihuge/i! It doesn't look this big from the outside."

"It's Harrods, Ron. There's nothing you can't buy here. But I believe we're on assignment; I'll bring you back when we've both got some time off."

"I'll hold you to that. Does anything look off to you? I don't know what's normal in a Muggle shop and what's not."

Harry glanced around. It looked like a typical late Friday afternoon in a department store. "No, everything looks normal."

Ron sighed.. "Up to the next floor? If we don't find anything when we reach the top, we'll start a proper scan, but I don't want to draw any attention we don't need to."

"Agreed," Harry said. "Doesn't look like this is going to be a quick job, does it?"

Ron shook his head. "Sorry, mate. What're you and the Ferret doi—"

His friend stopped speaking mid-sentence and his whole body tensed. "Is it normal to see a chicken in Muggle shops?"

"Sure. They sell most types of food in the food hall. Why? I thought you and Hannah—"

"No, Harry, I mean an _actual_ chicken." He flapped his muscular arms for emphasis.

"Erm, no. Especially not in Harrods. Why?"

Ron grabbed Harry by the shoulders and bodily turned him towards the card and stationery section, where a medium-sized chicken appeared to be desperately avoiding numerous attempts to catch it. As they got closer, the Aurors could hear people screeching as a middle-aged man in an ill-fitting suit called out for someone called Chantelle, while trying the capture the bird.

The crowd was no closer to catching the errant chicken by the time Harry and Ron reached them. It was hard to make out anything that was being said over the shouting and racket emanating from the desperate bird. Harry stared at the chicken; something wasn't quite right, but he couldn't tell what. Luckily Ron had noticed too.

"Have you ever seen a chicken with a pink sheen before?"

"No," Harry said as he slid his wand from the sleeve of his jacket. "I think we've found the problem." He cast several spells in rapid succession, ensuring that no one could either get onto their floor or leave it, and then Summoned the chicken, which clucked and flapped frantically in his grip. The reaction to Harry's use of magic was immediate; silence fell across the area, and one woman actually fainted when she saw the chicken zoom from the floor and into Harry's outstretched hands. "I'll deal with this and you deal with them," he said to Ron, before Stunning the chicken and putting it on the floor.

As he crouched down, Ron's Jack Russel Patronus ran past him and disappeared through a wall on its way to the Ministry, and he knew that they didn't have long before the Obliviators arrived on the scene.

A brief scan revealed that the chicken was in fact human. Thankfully, the counter-charm was quite simple, and Harry was soon faced with a Stunned young woman with bleached blonde hair. _Re-enervate_.

The effect of the spell was instantaneous; the young woman bolted up into a sitting position and screamed, staring at her arms. "He turned me into a chicken! Oh my God!" she yelled hysterically. Realising that time was of the essence and that he was going to get nothing from her in that state, Harry cast a Calming Charm on her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

"Hi," he said with a smile, feeling like a complete berk. "What's your name?"

"Chantelle," she said with a quiver, her eyes flitting from person to person.

"I'm Harry," he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "Now, I need you tell me what happened."

"It was him!"

"Who?" Harry looked at his watch. They had minutes before the Obliviators arrived, and he needed to know what had happened.

"That man in funny clothes. He asked for a card for queers and then pointed a stick at me!"

Before Harry could ask any more questions, Ron stalked over to him, his face like stone. "Harry, that woman behind the counter over there," he pointed behind him, "It's definitely a wizard. She said he was young but wearing really old fashioned clothes."

"Come on." Harry moved away from the crowd. "She said a man asked for a 'queer's card' and then pointed a wand at her. What the ihell/i is going on? Why would a wizard be in a Muggle shop, cursing people over a greetings card?"

Ron Sighed, "No idea, but we need to find him."

Before Harry could respond, the Obliviators arrived, and he and Ron were able to leave.

"No one has been able to leave the shop since we arrived, so everyone in here needs Obliviating," Ron called at the team leader before dragging Harry in the direction of the escalator. "Let's get to somewhere we can Floo and speak to Kingsley. He might be able to tell us more."

_TBC…_

A/N: Please review - I'd love to know what you think. :-)_  
_


	2. Chapter 2

**Gay Anniversary Blues**

**Chapter 2**

Giving the chicken one last disdainful glare, Draco slipped behind the card stacks; cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, and Apparated to Oxford Street. He'd only been to one store and already was _completely_ exhausted. There was no way he could be bothered walking to the nearest Apparation point, which was at least two hundred metres away. Luckily, he avoided splinching himself into a passing Muggle when he Disapparated, but he was too tired to care about consequences at this point. Looking up, he took in the façade of John Lewis department store and smiled appraisingly. It was rather more modern than Harrods, which bode well for his task. The clientele appeared to be rather younger and less stuffy; although, being Muggles, they were still out and out annoying, regardless.

He practiced his sneer for a few moments before braving the entrance. He didn't bother to smooth his jacket or check to see if his pockets were aligned, though. He just _knew_ he had chicken poop on his shoe, so what was the point? He might as well just resign himself to throwing his entire outfit in the rubbish when he got home. _Oh, Harry, the things I do for you!_. His sneer changed to a smirk as he thought about how much Harry would appreciate what he was going through, and how he might _show_ that appreciation come their anniversary. The thought cheered him considerably. Hmmmm, perhaps he could talk Harry into bottoming again. Harry just _loved_ it when Draco got all butch and forceful. Ooo, he could bring out their old school ties and that lovely leather collar he'd bought on the internet – there was nothing like a little bondage to get Harry all wanton and depraved. His inner macho flexed in anticipation and Draco puffed his rather buff chest out in response (well, it _was _buff!), which sent his cravat all askew. Huffing in annoyance, he pulled the stupid thing off, undid his top button and threw the cravat into a nearby bin. Damned stupid Muggle clothing, anyway.

After several impatient minutes, he spotted a gap in the crowd and used the opportunity to slip through the front doors of the store, being careful to keep moving this time to avoid another Muggle-induced collision. There were more moving staircases inside, so he made for the nearest and checked the directory before heading to the floors above. He found the cards and stationary section fairly easily. It wasn't nearly as big or ostentatious as the display at Harrods, but so long as it had what he wanted, that was all that mattered. Ending the Disillusionment, he adopted a suitably nonchalant air to match his now casual, sans-cravat attire, and stepped out from behind a row of books to begin his search.

Though he'd started off hopeful, picking cards off the shelf at random, he soon became rather annoyed as row after row failed to reveal any gay cards at all, let alone a gay anniversary one. After a few minutes of fruitless (heheh) searching, he spotted a card with a drag queen on the front and rushed over to pluck it from the shelf. Finally! He knew this store would have them! He drew the card out of the rack and read the front. _Happy Birthday, Granny?_ Good grief! Did Muggles really dress like that? He couldn't _imagine_ his own grandmother getting out and about in fishnets and a corset; in fact, the very thought made him nauseous. _Merlin! Too much information_, his brain complained as the image sprung into his thoughts. _Way too much information…_. He shuddered and threw the card aside in disgust. Really, were Muggles that depraved?

Moving on, he continued to scan the cards, getting more and more agitated as his search failed to produce the desired product. Finally, he became so fed up that he stopped bothering to replace the cards at all, merely dropping them onto the floor with a disgusted flick of his wrist before picking up the next. Within minutes, he had littered the area with cards and envelopes and was starting to fume.

"Oi! You're dropping cards everywhere! What do you think you're doing?" A short, rotund sales clerk with a bald pate and big black glasses had rounded the corner and was regarding him with some annoyance. Draco turned to look at him coolly.

"Oh, thank goodness; it's about time I was offered some assistance. Where are the same-sex cards, please?" Draco raised his eyebrows expectantly at the same time as the little bald man's brow furrowed. "I'm particularly looking for an anniversary card with a same-sex message," he added.

"What? We've no sex things here, mate. What do you think this is, the bloody New York bath house? Give over. This is a respectable establishment." The clerk walked forward and surveyed the mess on the floor. "Now, I'll thank you to stop throwing things all over and move on."

Draco set his lips and tried to summon up some patience. These are Muggles, after all, he reminded himself. One can't expect too much. Refraining from rolling his eyes, he started again, this time speaking more slowly. "My dear man, do you have such a thing as an anniversary card for a gay couple?" That should do it. Surely even a Muggle as stupid as this prat would know what 'gay' meant.

But the man was looking rather indignant. "I should hope not. This is a family establishment. Our customers are families with children! Don't want them being corrupted by all that gay filth."

This time, Draco saw past red and into deep crimson, and it wasn't pretty. He didn't bother to tell the clerk off. "_Queenstigma Flagranto!_" he muttered between clenched teeth as he fingered his wand in his pocket.

The bald clerk jerked violently as his suit disappeared, to be instantly replaced by a bright red corset, frilly black panties and fishnet stockings. Draco sneered at the distinct lack of bulge in the crotch. "I knew you had no bollocks, you disgusting little homophobe."

The man looked down in horror at his apparel, quickly covering his crotch with both hands as he jerked his knees together. He tried to take a step away, but had to catch himself before he fell over in his black, ankle-strap stilettos as they skidded along the tiled floor. Draco looked on with glee as the clerk continued to skid and stagger, his arms waving violently around as he tried to regain his balance. The man looked absolutely mortified, but was even more appalled when his legs began to jerk, first to the left, then to the right, then to the left again… Soon his legs were moving in an erratic rhythm which he appeared unable to control. Draco snickered into his hand as a crowd began to gather.

"Here, what's he doing? Is this part of the Halloween entertainment?" A woman at the front of the crowd looked around and a murmur rose.

Her neighbour shrugged. "Must be, I'd say." She furrowed her brow and looked at the clerk curiously. "You'd think they'd pick someone with a bit more of a presence though."

"Yes, I know what you mean. He really has no rhythm at all, does he?" The murmur grew as more and more people joined in to watch the bald clerk dance along the row of cards.

Suddenly, the man's cheeks filled with air and he looked like he was about to be sick. Throwing his hand over his mouth, he looked wildly at the crowd and shook his head. Draco pursed his lips and flicked his wand again. The man sputtered into his hand several times, even as his legs continued their jerky dance, and the crowd spread, as if they were afraid he would vomit all over them. Finally, his hand flew away from his mouth and up into the air, where it began waving limply, and his mouth opened to elicit a screeching song.

"It's just a jump to the left!" The man's legs jerked to the left at his words. "And then a step to the righ-hi-hi-hi-hight." His legs jerked back again. "Put your hands on your hips… and bring your knees in tigh-hi-hight!"

The man was now standing with his hands on his hips and his knees bowed. His head looked like it might explode.

"But it's the pelvic thru-u-usts, that really drive you in say-ay-ay-ay-ane! Let's do the Time Warp again! Let's do the Time Warp again!"

"Hmmmph." Draco sneered again, but calmly walked away as the clerk began a new verse of the song while he sashayed seductively in front of the crowd of customers. "Stupid bloody Muggles," he muttered for the tenth time that day as he pulled Hermione's list out of his pocket and sighed. He would try one more place – ione more/i, and that would be it. Pocketing the list again, he wondered if he wouldn't have done better to send Harry flowers instead.

~~~~~H/D~~~~~

Harry and Ron ducked behind a huge display of stuffed bears and Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron. The pub was quiet, meaning that the two Aurors didn't have to wait to use a fireplace. Once they stepped into the alcove surrounding the fireplace, the pre-set privacy wards activated. Ron paid the required Sickle and five minutes worth of Floo Powder was decanted into the flames.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Head Auror, Harry Potter requesting," Harry said before thrusting his head into the flames.

After a few seconds of having his head spin past hundreds of fireplaces, Kingsley's office came into focus. The Head Auror was sitting behind his desk, pouring over several reports and maps, which were presumably of London. His head snapped up when Harry's head appeared in his fire.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, his voice brisk and laced with concern.

"Well, I wouldn't say 'okay', but no one has been hurt. Whoever tripped the alarm had transfigured a sales clerk in the cards and stationery department of Harrods into a chicken. I don't think it was do--"

Harry hadn't finished speaking before the Muggle Abuse alarm went off again.

"What in Merlin's name…?" Kingsley muttered, turning to look at a large map of London on his back wall. The tall black man picked up an object from the small table under the map and looked at it. Harry couldn't see what the device was, or how it worked, but it appeared to be telling his boss where their attacker had struck. "I don't believe this! Whoever it is has gone for _another_ department store. Get to John Lewis on Oxford Street as fast as you can."

Harry was about to pull his head from the flames when Kingsley spoke again. "Oh, and Harry? Try using that mobile phone thing you recommended we issue; they're a lot quicker."

Harry felt his face flame. It had taken years to convince the Ministry that mobile phones would be useful in the field, and then he went and forgot to use them. Harry nodded once and pulled his head back, trying to ignore the way the flashing views of fireplaces upset his stomach.

"I Ihate/I using the fucking Floo," he cursed between retching, his head resting on his knees.

Ron looped a strong arm through Harry's and pulled him from his knees and into a standing position. "So? What did Kingsley say?"

"The alarm was tripped again while we were talking – John Lewis on Oxford Street this time." The brunet cast a wandless Disillusionment Charm on them both before getting a grip on Ron's arm and Disapparating.

Harry and Ron made their way to the front of the building and cast the same charms as they had at Harrods; after the Aurors crossed the threshold of the shop, anyone wishing to leave would suddenly remember that they needed to visit the fragrance section, and anyone wanting to enter would find themselves in dire need of a coffee from Costa next door.

"What do you reckon? Head for cards and stationery again or work down from the top?" Ron looked up at Harry as he stepped onto the escalator and turned to face him.

"Straight for cards," Harry replied with a shrug. "It's a bit too much of a coincidence that two of these stores have been hit in one day. If there's nothing odd there, go up to the top and wor--"

Harry hadn't finished speaking before they'd reached the first floor, and he didn't need to finish the sentence. He felt Ron draw his wand from his sleeve holster and followed suit. "Muggle shop or wizard, I _know_ that's not normal," Ron muttered.

Harry's eyes travelled in the direction his partner was pointing and he had to fight to hold back a laugh; whoever was attacking the Muggles was not holding back. A middle-aged, balding man dressed in drag was jerking around the shop floor, doing some kind of weird dance . As they got closer to the scene, it was evident that the man was doing the _Time-Warp_. "Merlin, he's eve_n singing_ it," Harry's voice cracked in amusement.

"This isn't funny, Harry," Ron snapped.

Harry did his best to straighten his face, but the sight of the clerk dancing jerkily in a corset and fishnets and singing out of tune in front of a group of befuddled middle-aged women was almost too much. When the man gyrated his frilly crotch in their direction, Harry swallowed a guffaw and Stunned him before he could go any further.

There were several screams as the budding Frankenfurter fell to the ground, seemingly for no reason.

Ron didn't bother asking the crowd any questions, but did cast the spells to stop people from leaving the first floor; the Obliviators wouldn't be long, so they might as well deal with the hysteria. The two Aurors both cast spells at the same time, bringing the man from his state of unconsciousness, while making sure that he didn't degenerate into incoherent screaming.

"Are you injured?" Harry asked, lifting the man's chunky wrist and finding a strong, steady pulse.

Without waiting for an answer, Ron interrupted. "We need to know what happened here, right now."

"Well, I was getting ready to go for my afternoon break when I noticed a young man throwing my stock around."

"Your stock? You mean the cards?" The man nodded. "What else?"

"Well, he got annoyed at me when I told him to stop and _this _happened." Harry silently thanked Merlin for Calming Charms; if the look on the man's face was anything to go by, he was already close to hysteria.

"Did he say anything, or ask anything?" Ron probed desperately as the Obliviators started Apparating into the store.

"Well, he asked about cards for queers. When I told him that this is a respectable shop, he got angry. How did he do this to me?" he asked, a slight tremor in his voice. It was evident that the charm was wearing off.

Harry threw the man's arm down in disgust, stepped away from him, and walked towards the escalator with Ron following just behind him. "Same as before!" he shouted over his shoulder before addressing Ron. "Merlin, I hate homophobes."

Ron smirked. "Well, it seems that you're not alone; at least one other wizard does, too. I think it's safe to say that we have a wizard looking for a gay themed card, and causing hell when he's not finding one."

"Yeah, well, I wish he wouldn't. I should have finished fifteen minutes ago; Draco's going to kill me!"

"No, he won't," Ron said, not entirely confidently. "He'll understand."

"Yeah, right. He's going to go bloody bonkers if I'm late, and you know he will."

"Look, if it's worrying you, ring the lab and let him know you'll be late while I speak to Kingsley. If he knows it's work, he'll be fine."

Harry nodded and pulled his phone out of his inside pocket. Telling Draco he was going to be late was never fun, especially when they had plans. INo better time than the present,I he thought before biting the proverbial bullet and dialling the Ministry's research lab.

"Huh. He's not there," Harry turned to Ron as he flipped his phone shut. "Must have gone early."

"Maybe he's organising a surprise present for your anniversary," Ron replied, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right. Draco knows I _hate_ surprises and besides, _I _am the one who buys the ridiculously expensive gifts in this relationship, remember?"

Ron grinned. "Yeah, he's the most spoiled and doted-upon ferret this side of the International Date Line. Did you try his mobile, by the way?"

"Yeah, it was busy so I left a message. I can only hope he won't hex my balls off and have them for dinner."

Ron screwed his face up in mock pain and covered his privates with both hands.

Harry laughed. "Come on. Let's get back and get this report in. Meanwhile, I'll work on my grovelling."

_TBC…_

A/N: _Time Warp _was written by Richard O'Brien (1975) and was made popular in the rock musical, _The Rocky Horror Picture Show._


	3. Chapter 3

bGay Anniversary Blues

**Gay Anniversary Blues**

**Chapter 3**

"Hermione? It's Draco. Fine thanks. Well, no actually, I'm not fine…. Look, are you certain this Card Factory place is safe? It's out in the middle of the fucking suburbs, for Merlin's sake." Draco looked around in disgust. "Yes, I know that lots of people live in the suburbs and not everyone can be rich like me." He rolled his eyes. "Hermione… Hermione." He held the phone away from his ear as her voice blasted out at him. "Hermione! Yes, love…." He tapped his foot impatiently as he listened to her continue to rave on about the state of poverty in the Muggle world. Eventually, he got tired of her ranting and cut her off. "Love? I appreciate the social justice issues, but really… this shop is in a fucking barn!"

"Honestly, Draco, you're such a snob. That's how they cut costs! Not everyone can afford to shop in Paris, you know."

"Yes, yes, okay, you're right. Just as long as you're sure I won't get mugged walking down the aisle. Fine. Thanks, love. I'll see you tomorrow." Draco flipped his phone shut and dropped it back into his pocket. He had to admit that if there was one thing Muggles were good at, it was making gadgets like his phone. How on earth the wizarding world could stand doing everything by Owl and Floo was beyond him. He had to give the Muggles credit for making the best of a bad situation – not having magic – by being so damned inventive. Not that he would iever/i admit it, of course. Hermione would never let him hear the end of it!

He looked around nervously. Now, if only Harry were here to cover him, he'd feel a lot safer. The car park was huge and there were cars everywhere, and he'd had to dodge several attempts on his life as he'd crossed it. He'd been standing in front of the entrance for several minutes, deciding whether or not to go in, when he'd finally succumbed to his fear and called Hermione. But she'd seemed fine with the place. Surely she wouldn't send him anywhere dangerous, even if it did look like a giant potting shed. Looking around, he noticed the people were dressed somewhat more casually than he'd thus encountered. Glancing down at his Muggle outfit, he decided he looked rather out of place. Well, the velvet jacket was done for, anyway, what with all the disgusting sneezes and coughs it had been subjected to earlier. No doubt it harboured a small colony of bacteria and germs already. Urgh. Quickly unbuttoning the jacket, Draco slipped it off his shoulders and dropped it into a nearby bin. There, that was better, though of course he could never pass for a local. One can hardly disguise one's aristocratic demeanour, after all.

Once inside, he pursed his lips with distaste at the huge, fluorescent-lit, warehouse-like interior, with its rows upon rows of shelves and armies of uniformed workers scurrying about. _Harry, your arse had so better be mine after all the trouble I am going to for you._ He sighed and headed for the nearest row of cards, carefully reading the headings as he moved along the rows, but couldn't seem to find the anniversary aisle. Merlin! There were so many aisles! It would take him all bloody afternoon to go through this lot. He glanced up and noticed a clock on the wall. It read three thirty-five. At this rate, he would miss tea! Sighing heavily, he wondered what his best plan of attack should be. Perhaps he should just ask someone. He shuddered as he recalled his previous attempts at conversing with Muggle sales clerks, and decided with some dread that he should just forge ahead by himself.

Moving further along the rows, he quickly scanned up each one as he went. Rows and rows of birthday cards, of course – everything from hearts and flowers to humour – tacky wedding cards, trite sympathy cards, even blank cards… ah, finally, the anniversary cards. Draco picked up the first card and eyed it warily. _Oh. My. God._ The card looked like it was rehashed from some old newspapers! Turning the card over, he read the caption at the bottom: _Made from recycled paper_. He dropped it quickly with a grimace and reached into his pocket in search of a handkerchief to wipe his soiled hands, hoping for all he was worth that the paper that had been recycled wasn't the kind one used in the bathroom! How revolting. He almost bolted at that point, but his resolve to find Harry a card made him stop. He took a deep breath, counted slowly to ten, then moved further along the aisle, being careful not to actually touch any of the cards as he went, just in case.

After fifteen minutes of continuous searching, Draco decided that there was no such thing in the entire world as a gay card. He'd found everything else: political cards (_Friends Don't Let Friends Fuck Tories_), humorous cards (_Weapons of Mass Seduction Inside_) – Draco had _almost_ decided that this last would be as good as a gay card, but then relented – mushy cards, but nowhere could he find one with two blokes on the front or a gay message of any kind.

Finally, he decided that he would just have to ask someone, just in case the stupid homophobic Muggles had quarantined the gay cards somewhere in their own section. Noting that he hadn't had much luck in conversing with the Muggles, he quietly reminded himself to remember that the workers here would be similarly magically-challenged, and that therefore he should try to be i_nice/i_. Yes. Nice could work. His mother had always told him that he should be kind to those were not so fortunate and Merlin knew, the Muggles didn't have a lot going for them (mobile phones aside, of course).

Putting on his most charming smile, he approached a young woman who appeared to be stocking the shelves. "Excuse me, Miss?" he began, and was heartened when she turned and smiled. "Would you be so kind as to point me towards the section with same-sex cards please?" He cocked his head to one side in what he knew was a devastatingly handsome pose, and waited.

"Sorry, love, you'll have to pop over the road to _Naughty But Nice_ to get sex stuff," she answered, looking at him curiously. Leaning closer, she eyed him wickedly. "I 'eard they 'ave quite the range of toys and things over there, too, if you know wha' I mean?" She winked at him, then went back to stocking her shelves.

Draco closed his eyes and shook his head slightly. He could feel the steam building up inside him, so he drew a calming breath and quietly hummed a Zen mantra to himself. He could do this. He could explain it all over again for the third time that day. He could be nice. He could be calm.

He opened his eyes, then immediately lost it. "What the bloody fuck is _wrong_ with the world?!" he let loose at the poor sales assistant with all the venom he could muster. "Has _no one_ heard of the term 'same-sex,' for fuck's sake? Merlin, it's like living in a parallel fucking universe!" He turned and grabbed a bunch of cards from the stacks and threw them into the air, his usually calm, pale face all pinkish and distorted with rage. "And being gay is _not_ just about getting shagged, you moron!"

Pulling out his wand, he literally exploded, his magic rolling exponentially across the shelves and down the aisles, sending cards, envelopes, ribbons, wrap and tacky gifts into a whirlwind that quickly took on monumental proportions.

The sales girl ran for it.

Draco stood stock still for a moment before he realised what he had done.

Quickly ducking behind a large portico, he watched in horror as row after row of cards, paper ribbons, and wraps exploded into the air, sending a shower of coloured debris swirling around him, and causing the rows of shelves to collapse against themselves.

"It's an earthquake!" He heard someone shout from several metres away, and then there were screams and the sound of stampeding feet as the Muggles struggled to push out through the front doors.

When the hubbub began to subside, Draco looked around sheepishly and wondered if perhaps he hadn't overreacted just a teeny, tiny bit. Surreptitiously crawling behind a pile of paper, he swished his wand again and Apparated home.

~~~~~H/D~~~~~

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" Harry answered impatiently as he surveyed the mess that used to be the Card Factory. She had to pick now of all times to call, and he had no idea what she was going on about. Spying Ron across the store, he waved him over and transferred the phone to his other ear. "Hermione, slow down. I can't understand a word you're saying." He rolled his eyes and held the phone away from his ear as she began yelling into the phone. "What Muggle news? Why are you telling me this? Look, we're in the middle of a job here. Can't it wait?" Ron walked up frowning at that point.

"Won't be a moment," Harry mouthed at him before turning his attention back to his phone conversation. "Here talk to Ron." He brusquely cut off Hermione in mid-sentence and handed the phone over to his partner, who was trying to catalogue the damage in his notebook with a Quick Quill.

"Here, talk to your wife, will you?"

Ron looked at him inquisitively, but Harry just shrugged and rolled his eyes again as he jangled the phone in front of Ron's face. Ron took the phone with a sigh. Hermione was renowned for her lengthy phone calls, which always ended up turning into a passionate soliloquy on the lack of social justice in the world. Harry smirked as he watched Ron's face take on a pained expression and turned once again to survey the damage.

Bloody hell, but the bastard had done a job on the store this time. The place was a mess and he'd had to Stun at least a dozen Muggles to stop them from trampling each other in their haste to exit. Not to mention the team of Obliviators that was currently working at the entrance to the store and the car park as well. The explosion had been so extensive that it had carried clear across the strip mall, and everyone within hearing distance had heard or seen it. Flicking his wand a few times, he quickly began to reassemble the shelves and deposit the goods back to where they belonged. Honestly, the things he did for his bloody job. Next, they'd have him doing fucking Cleaning Charms!

"Ah, Harry?"

He stopped spelling the cards for a moment and turned to regard his partner, who was holding out Harry's phone to him. Harry looked at it, then back at Ron. "What's wrong?" he asked, his eyebrows rising at the worried look on Ron's face. He took the phone and deposited it back into his pocket.

"Um, well… er, it's like this…" Ron began. "Hermione saw something on the Muggle news about the John Lewis debacle."

"What?!" Harry blanched in horror. "The Obliviators took care of all that, didn't they?"

"Er, apparently not." Ron stepped forward then and put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Oh, God," Harry groaned. "What do we do now? Obliviate the entire bloody Muggle population?"

Ron looked at him with an apologetic smile, and Harry's stomach suddenly flipped over. Something was amiss. "The thing is, mate. She knows who did it."

"How? He was gone by the time we got there. The Muggle cameras couldn't possibly have caught him on film!"

"No, they didn't." Ron placed his other hand on Harry's shoulder and sighed. "Apparently Draco wanted to get you something special for your anniversary, mate."

Harry looked at him irritably. "What? What's that got to do with it?"

"He, er, called in to see Hermione this morning to ask her where he could get…" Ron cleared his throat and winced in anticipation of Harry's response. "…a, er… a gay anniversary card."

Harry blinked. Then he furrowed his brows, his brain performing a double take as he tried to assimilate what Ron was telling him. After some moments, he absently shook his head.

No.

Draco in a Muggle store? Harry blinked again.

No, no and _no!_

He cocked his head to one side for a brief moment, feeling amusement bubbling up inside him. Draco in a Muggle store?! He snorted before he could stop himself.

"Good one, Ron." He smacked his partner upside the head with a grin. "Now pull the other one."

"Harry, it's true. Hermione gave him a list of stores and he was going shopping this afternoon."

Harry was still smiling in spite of the seriousness of Ron's expression. "Draco would _never_ - not in a million years, mate – _ever_ step foot in a Muggle store." He put his hands on his hips and shook his head at his daft partner. "I can barely get him to go to The Promenade at the Dorchester, and it has a wizarding section. And he'll only go there because they have the most expensive high tea in Britain." Harry crossed his arms, still looking incredulous. "He loves the petits fours. They have little silver flowers on them." He smirked as he thought fondly of how Draco just adored the little cakes and always ordered an extra plate.

Ron shrugged. "Why would Hermione lie? She said he'd searched everywhere for a gay card and was dead set on getting you one. He wanted your fifth anniversary to be special."

"Oh, right, and that's another thing. Since when does Draco buy me cards and gifts?" Harry looked at his partner with satisfaction, knowing this was the clincher in his argument. "He much prefers to… er… ply me with _physical_ treats." Harry smirked and waggled his eyebrows. Draco really did know how to celebrate special occasions.

His smirk faltered for a moment, though, when Ron shook his head and patted him on the shoulder in commiseration.

"There's always a first time."

"…."

"Harry?"

Harry shook his head in apparent continued disbelief, but a sliver of doubt had crept into his consciousness. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and tried to push the traitorous thought away.

"Er… mate? Are you all right?"

Ron was looking at him worriedly now, and suddenly Harry's mind was a whirl of thoughts as he pictured Draco actually going out in Muggle London _by himself_ to buy Harry an anniversary card. He and Draco had been married for five years, and Draco was a devoted spouse. He spoiled Harry with as much attention as he possibly could; sex was amazing; Draco even cooked for him. (Well, he arranged for the house-elves to prepare Harry's favourite foods.) But never in that whole time had Draco ever stepped foot in a Muggle establishment. (Well, the Dorchester didn't count, really.) Nor had he bought Harry a card or gift. Not that Harry minded; he rather enjoyed being the one who lavished gifts on Draco. His lover was always so… _grateful_. (Harry thought that _gift sex_ was probably the best of all.)

He furrowed his brow again as he suddenly remembered Draco's words at breakfast. "Be sure you're home early, Harry, I've got a big surprise for you," he'd said mysteriously before leaning over and snogging the daylights out of him. Harry had smirked in amused lust, but hadn't thought any more of it. Could it be that Draco _had _wanted to buy him a card?

He blinked again.

Then he sighed.

Then he crumpled in resignation as realisation finally dawned.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as he slumped against a nearby post. "What are we going to do?"

Ron slapped him on the back in reassurance. "Look, it's not the end of the world. So he messed up a couple of Muggle stores."

Harry gave him a look, then rolled his eyes. "God, Kingsley will have his arse for this. He'll have _my_ arse for this. We're fucking doomed."

"Come on. It's not that bad."

"Not bad? _Not bad_?" Harry was starting to get agitated. "What the fuck do you think they'll do to him? Let him off with a tap on the wrist? Fucking hell, he'll be lucky he doesn't end up in Azkaban for all the commotion he's caused."

"Calm down, mate," Ron answered placatingly. He backed off though, when Harry shot him a ferocious look. "Look, he covered his signature, so no one will even know it's him. If we don't say anyth-"

"Not going to happen, Ron. Hermione couldn't lie if her life depended on it."

"Oh. Yeah…. Right."

"Not to mention the trouble we'd be in if Kingsley found out we'd been holding back information." Harry sighed and slumped further down the post. "We'll just have to go face Kingsley before he finds out some other way. Do some damage control."

Ron crossed his arms and looked thoughtful for a moment, before dropping his arms and pulling out his wand in resignation. "Yeah, you're right. Let's finish this up and head back to the office." Ron pointed his wand and began to rebuild the shelves again, turning to shoot Harry an exasperated look. "Merlin. I know he's your spouse and all, but when I get my hands on him…"

Harry growled. "Back off, mate. He's mine first, and if there's anything left, you're welcome to it."

_TBC…_

A/N: Please review. Only one chapter to go and it will be up tomorrow!


	4. Chapter 4

bGay Anniversary Blues

**Gay Anniversary Blues**

**Chapter 4**

"Draco? Are you home?" Harry peeled off his robes, dropped them over the arm of the sofa, and rubbed his face tiredly. He and Ron had just spent two hours in Kingsley's office, trying to convince him not to charge Draco with Misuse of Magic. As it was, he'd had to do some very fast talking to get the fine down to a hefty five thousand Galleons. And he was to be responsible for ensuring that his spouse stayed away from Muggle establishments for an entire year. God, what a harrowing afternoon. First, the Apparating all over London trying to placate harassed Muggles; then the confrontation with Kingsley. All he wanted now was a hot bath, dinner, and bed, in that order. He knew, however, that that little scenario would not be on the cards. He sighed as he wondered how he should deal with his miscreant husband.

"Harry, you're fucking late and my Beef Wellington is overdone." Draco stalked into the living room with a pair of tongs in his hand and waved them in front of Harry as he parked his other hand on his hip. "Where the fuck have you been?"

"Happy Anniversary to you, too."

"Don't fucking give me that. Why didn't you call? I was worried sick!" Draco began to tap his foot in irritation. "Well, what have you got to say for yourself?"

Harry raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips thoughtfully for a moment, then sauntered casually over to his spouse. Draco frowned and narrowed his eyes. Harry stopped when they were toe to toe, casually loosening his tie and undoing his top button. He cocked his head and regarded Draco for several long moments.

"Hmmm…. Let me see. First there was the chicken at Harrods." He raised his eyebrows as Draco blanched and swallowed. "Then there was the clerk in drag at John Lewis…."

"Oh. That." Draco looked up and bit his lip. It was aggravatingly adorable. "Um, Harry, I can explain-"

Ignoring him, Harry moved forward and slid his hands around Draco's waist, leaning forward until his lips were close to Draco's ear. "Then…" He sighed and his warm breath caused the hairs on Draco's neck to stand on end. Draco made a sound as if to continue, but Harry once again cut him off. "Uh. Then there was an explosion at the Card Factory." His breath ghosted across Draco's cheek and the latter's breath hitched in his chest. "Imagine that. All those cards, Draco. In a heap." He inched slightly closer until his lips brushed against the shell of Draco's ear. "All. Over. The floor…."

Draco shifted uncomfortably and tried to pull back, but Harry had moved his hands around and up Draco's back, pulling him in until their chests met.

"It wasn't as bad as all that. Honest, Harry, I can explain," Draco whined against his neck.

Harry did pull back then, his brows arched and his eyes searching the now paled face in front of him. "Oh? Do tell. Because I have just spent two fucking hours in Kingsley's office trying to come up with a reason why he shouldn't jail your arse."

Draco's lips thinned at the tone in Harry's voice and he pushed him away with force. "Well, pardon me for trying to make our anniversary something special, you ungrateful bastard! I traipsed all over London – to Muggle stores, Harry. Yes, Muggle stores! I put up with disgusting, snivelling old ladies yelling at me, kids drooling on my leg, nasty men swearing at me, and fucking bigoted sales clerks belittling me. But do you care? Oh, no! All you fucking care about is your precious reputation and what Kingsley fucking Shacklebolt has to say!" He was fuming by this stage, the little vein in his left temple throbbing visibly.

"Oh, and so you just _had_ to hex them, didn't you?" Harry crossed his arms in exasperation. "For Merlin's sake, do you have _no _sense of propriety?"

"Propriety? _Propriety?!_ I'll give you fucking propriety, you sanctimonious arse!" Draco turned and marched into the kitchen, returning within seconds with a tray in his hand. "Here's your fucking dinner," he sneered as he dumped the Beef Wellington unceremoniously on the floor at Harry's feet.

Harry looked down in shock, then back at his distressed spouse, who was close to hyperventilating by this stage. Fuck, what was he doing? This was his anniversary! They should be celebrating, not fighting like cats and dogs. Taking a deep breath, he moved forward and took Draco into his arms. Draco stiffened at the contact and looked away, but Harry pulled him closer and nuzzled his neck. "Draco, stop."

Draco squirmed in his arms and tried to break out of the embrace, but Harry was having none of it. He held fast until Draco finally gave up fidgeting and slumped against him, burying his face in the crook of his neck. Harry almost felt sorry for him, but then remembered the long, _long_ bawling out he had been subjected to back at the Ministry, so he continued. "Love? Can you _please_ explain what you were doing hexing Muggles all over London?"

Harry felt lips moving against his neck as Draco mumbled something incoherent, and tried not to chuckle at the endearing cuteness of the gesture. Relenting slightly, he reached a hand up to stroke the long blond strands for several moments, before pulling back and lifting Draco's chin to face him. "Okay. Tell me what happened."

"Oh, God, Harry, it was horrible!" Tears sprung into Draco's eyes and he lifted his head and sniffed pathetically. Harry inwardly rolled his eyes at the manipulative move, but didn't say anything as he waited for his spouse to continue. He almost laughed out loud, however, when the latter choked back a sob and looked at him miserably. Now, _that _was bordering on criminally gorgeous – those pale grey eyes brimming over with crocodile tears and the quivering pink bottom lip. Harry could barely stop himself from melting completely.

"They were mean to me – the Muggles, Harry – they were mean and nasty and –" He hiccupped a few times as he choked back more fake sobs and Harry stroked his cheek soothingly.

"What could they possibly have done to make you react like that?"

"The fake-blonde dragon at Harrods called me perverted and the fat-arsed clerk at John Lewis said I was filth! All because I asked for a gay anniversary card! I _had_ to hex them!" He dropped his head back onto Harry's shoulder as he shook with dry sobs.

"Oh, Merlin, love, they didn't." Harry sighed and pulled his spouse in closer so he could rub soothing circles over his back. "Bloody homophobes. I wish I'd hexed them myself."

"They deserved it," Draco muttered against the stubble of Harry's throat. Moments later, he lifted his head to look into Harry's eyes. "I just wanted it to be special for you. You always do so much for me and I wanted to do something back. Who'd have thought it would be so hard to find a gay card?"

"Indeed." Harry leaned in slightly and brushed their lips together. "I suppose it _might_ have been worth the five thousand Galleon fine to see that fat clerk do the _Time Warp_." He chuckled against Draco's lips and the latter smirked, tears forgotten.

"Merlin, you should have seen him! Wait – five thousand galleons?" Draco stared at him with wide eyes as Harry's words registered. "Holy fuck!" he groaned. "God, I'm so sorry." He dropped his head back to Harry's shoulder and sighed heavily.

"You know… I can think of several ways you can pay me back." Draco's head shot up again at that and Harry grinned at him wickedly. "How about we start with dinner and work from there?"

"But dinner is ruined! The Beef Wellington is like rubber." Draco waved the tongs, which he was still holding, in front of Harry and pouted.

"Well, then, I suppose I'll just have to eat _you_, then." Harry's look was predatory and he growled as Draco smirked and slowly backed away.

"You'll have to catch me first." Draco threw the tongs on the floor and pushed Harry playfully before turning and running from the room with Harry hot on his heels.

Harry caught up with him in the kitchen and pinned him against the bench. "Now, where to start? Hmmm, I think I'll start… here." He leaned forward and nipped lightly at Draco's throat several times, before running his tongue down the tender, pale skin, which erupted into goose flesh at the touch. "Mmmmm… you taste good enough to eat."

Draco dropped his head back and his breath hitched as Harry's lips and tongue teased his throat, and when he grazed his teeth along the tender skin below his ear, Draco moaned. The sound went straight to Harry's cock, which twitched and instantly hardened. Merlin, what Draco did to him! That lean muscled body and pale smooth skin, the hair that was soft as spun silk and smelled of the rich fragrance of his expensive shampoo. The aroma invaded his nostrils as he buried his face into the delicate strands behind Draco's ear. Mmmm, this was heaven. It was no wonder Harry could never stay mad for long; not with this feast of delectable sensations overpowering him.

He ground himself against Draco's hip and moaned at the feel of his lover's erection against his own. Draco pushed back against him, their hips rocking together in an erratic rhythm as they sought each others mouths. They kissed hungrily for long minutes, tongues thrusting into mouths, lips alternatively yielding and insistent, until Harry thought he would burst if he didn't feel his lover's cock in his hand right then and there. He slid his hand down between them and pulled at Draco's shirt to lift it out of his trousers so he could reach under and feel the warm flesh beneath. Draco's stomach muscles clenched as Harry's fingers glided over them before tripping up and over the ridges of his ribs and back down again.

Then the hand slipped under Draco's waistband and the elastic of his boxers to find its treasure and Draco moaned when the soft tips of Harry's fingers gently rubbed the tip of his cock before sliding down and grasping the shaft at its base. The sound made Harry nearly come on the spot. He pulled at the hard length several times until Draco was bucking against him and his own cock was throbbing. In a frenzy of need he drew his hand out again and fumbled with the buttons of Draco's pants, his fingers steadfastly refusing to work in his haste to get past the barrier of clothes. Finally, in frustration, he drew his wand from his pocket and within seconds they were both naked and thrusting against each other, moaning at the feel of skin on skin and cock on cock.

Leaving the swollen red lips, Harry kissed a line down Draco's jaw, neck and chest, before dropping to his knees and taking Draco's cock in his hand. It was heavy and pulsing and it felt oh, so good in his grasp. He leaned forward and rubbed the head across his mouth and cheeks and Draco groaned loudly as the stubble on Harry's cheek grazed the tender flesh.

"Fuck, Harry."

"Mmmmm," was all that Harry could manage before taking the head in his mouth and sucking softly. Draco bucked into his mouth and Harry opened his lips and allowed his lover to thrust against the back of his throat several times before taking his hips in hand and pushing him back against the kitchen counter. He licked the underside with the flat of his tongue, alternating that with swirling his tongue and lips over the head and dipping into the slit, until Draco was fairly groaning with need and muttering unintelligible encouragements as he tangled his fingers in Harry's hair. Leaving the shaft for a moment, Harry dipped his head to take the wrinkled sac into his mouth, gently sucking and kneading the globes until they twitched and began to pull up. Harry took this as a signal that his lover was about ready to explode, and quickly moved to take his dripping cock into his mouth again. When Draco groaned loudly and tugged roughly on his hair, he sucked down hard, drawing him into the back of his throat and swallowing once, twice, and then Draco was spurting his seed down Harry's throat as he thrashed against the counter and clutched Harry for all he was worth.

Long moments later, Harry pulled away and licked the last remaining drop from the tip of the now mostly soft cock. He nuzzled the curls at its base before standing and pulling Draco into a tight embrace, their lips moving together again as Draco shared the taste of his own seed on Harry's tongue. Finally, Harry pulled away and smiled gently.

"Mmmmm, if that was the appetiser, what's for main course?" He grinned wickedly and Draco smirked at the lascivious look.

"How about an arse sandwich?"

Harry's snort quickly turned to a groan as Draco reached around and ran a long, slender finger up the crack of Harry's arse.

"Fuck, Draco," he breathed as he pushed back against it.

Draco smirked again. "That'll be dessert."

i_Fin_/i


End file.
